It is very safe to say that Liberty Emerald or as she prefered to be called, Libby, was not in a good mood. Her annoying boss had woke her up at "SIX IN THE FREAKING MORNING!" to give her some wuss job. ANd she knew it was just an excuse to stare at her t*ts because that obese guy was a bloody pervy git.

And then she got assigned for a teammate Nicky Sanchez, the boss's son. The guy you love to hate, because he's just like his dad.

But, she had to relax now.

Anyways, there they were in some backwater hick town in Colarado.
Nick in slacks, some fancy italian shirt and lugging the heavy stuff, while whining above his spikes getting mussed.

Libby herself was wearing blue denim jeans, washed out with age, a white shirt with several gun and photography club membership badges, feet clad in trainers.
Her dark blonde hair was tied up, forest green eyes hid under a fringe of dyed green tips.
Her trusty camera around her neck, notepad, pens, guns, ammo and everything else in her rucksack, she was ready for this freaking job.

Her words, not mine.

"Without heroes we are all plain people and don't know how far we can go."